


Back in time

by Trtrtrtr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:10:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trtrtrtr/pseuds/Trtrtrtr
Summary: Everyone believed Loki didn’t love Thor. Everyone believed all Loki felt towards Thor was just pure jealousy and hatred.No one seemed to know that in another life, Loki would spontaneously let himself be punished just to see Thor lived a happy life. A life that would no longer have Loki in it.





	Back in time

**Author's Note:**

> I just have to get this out of my head before I go watch the film T.T
> 
> Forgive me for all the mistakes I've made in this. I know there were a lot of it and feel free to point it out if you found any :D.

 

 

 

_“Loki”_

 

 _“Yes mother?”_ He barely darted his eyes off the heavy spell book on his lap.

 

_“Do you want to learn a new spell?”_

 

_“A new one? I already have a lot here I haven’t figure out how to cast yet. How come I learn another?”_

 

Though he was eager to learn and though he was a smart boy who claimed to become a powerful sorcerer in the very near future, he was still a boy, too young to even handle two things at a time. So when his mother mentioned it, he didn’t show much interest, not until he knew what the spell was for, of course. Youth and curiosity always went abreast, did they not?

 

_“Hmm… Are you sure? I thought you might want to learn how to maybe… go back in time? But since you are not that interest…”_

 

He couldn’t run into his mother fast enough. A spell that could help him return to the past. How fascinated.

 

 _“It is? How? I didn’t think such spell could exist, mother.”_ His cheeks were now pink with the sudden excitement and though he tried to shake his mother’s hands gently like he always did when convincing her to tell him a secret or even just a story before bed, it seemed to be impossible with all his adrenaline rush so he ended up clinging to her neck.

 

Frigga chuckled affectionately. She loved him, she coddled him and in return, he loved her, just nearly as much as he loved his brother, _Thor_.

 

_“Such spell does exist, darling. And you sure can cast it if you do enough practice…”_

_“Teach me, mother. I want to learn it. Please?”_ He purred to her ears.

 

 _“I will, my little boy.”_ She gestured him to go sit on her lap and he obeyed it without thinking. Her embrace was so warm and no doubt it was his safest place on the nine realms. He believed just so until he got old enough to realize the safest was being with _Thor_.

 

_“But remember, Loki, this spell can only be casted when you are in a desperate need to save other people. Understand?”_

 

_“Only other?”_

 

 _“Yes. That’s how it works.”_ He felt the ghost of her smile against his forehead as she bend down to give him a soft kiss. That was… typically his mother – Allmother, a master in the art of healing magic and her magic only meant to save and protect people. Loki was the only one out of her two sons who took after her talent. She taught him how to heal wounds long ago since it first appeared to him that fighting with swords didn’t entirely suit him. But that didn’t meant he didn’t know how to fight. All Asgardian knew how to fight. They were valiant warriors, they won countless battles by fighting with their muscles and strength. And in Loki’s case, he decided he would fight with his magic. That was not at all a difference, was it? He still remembered the day he had stated his chosen field, Odin hadn’t said anything about whether he had approved with his option or not, but Frigga, on the other hand, she had been so happy her grin hadn’t evanesced for days. So it was okay, as long as he could go back in time, it didn’t matter who he wanted to save.

 

 

 

It took him years to fully apprehend the basis. He didn’t have any chance to perform it or to test if it worked, though. Because he had never been in such distress where he sensed the need to salvage someone and why didn’t he, really? He had everything. He was a prince of Asgard. He had Frigga. He had Odin. And he had _Thor_. The family he sure would never let him be anywhere near anything deemed distress. He had no idea what _a desperate need to save other_ felt like.

 

Even when he let go of Gungnir and let himself fall into the abyss, when he tried to cast the spell just to escape the dull ache in his heart, it didn’t work. Right then, he thought, if finding out that he was adopted, that all his life was nothing but a lie, that he was not the silver prince of Asgard, that he was just a disgusting frost giant, taken away from birth as nothing more than a tool for peace _,_ that after all, they didn’t need him, no one needed him wouldn’t bring the spell to work, he truly didn’t know what else would. The void consumed him and only at that moment, Frigga the words echoed painfully in his head: _When you are in a desperate need to save other._ Oh, so that was what it meant.  _Other_ , not _himself_.

 

And then came the time when a guard informed him the Queen had been killed by a dark elf, his heart broke. Never ever in his life, he felt more regret.

 

_Then am I not your mother?_

_You’re not._

It was the second time he attempted to cast that spell. He tried really hard, he did. It just didn’t work. No matter how much the effort was killing him inside, it didn’t work. What was wrong? Did he miss something? Wasn’t he powerful enough? It must be so. It had to be so. There was no way this wasn’t his _desperate need to save other_. He sobbed. And he destroyed all the things he could lay his hands on in the dungeon till he was too worn out to even stand up.

 

_You are._

_You are._

_You are._

 

And then came the third.

 

Thanos was torturing Thor. Asgardian’s corpses lying sparsely around him and he himself was being held captive by the black order, a spear aiming at his head. Watching Thor being tortured was like watching someone else stabbing his heart with a sharp knife and twisted it thoughtlessly. Then out of a sudden, it occurred to him that from the very beginning, he didn’t give Thor anything but agony and losses, and pain, lots of pain.

 

He had ruined Thor’s coronation day, which had lead to Thor being casted out by father. He had demolished the Bifrost, which had lead to Thor not being able to see the woman for about two years. He had put a spell on Odin, expelling him, which had lead to Odin’s death and the releasing of Hela, which had also lead to the doom of Asgard, Thor’s homeland. And after that, he’d taken the tesseract, keeping it with him while boarding on the ship to see Thor without realizing the danger of his risky action. The fallout of it was too much he would trade everything he had just to make it stop.

 

He opened his eyes and shot Thor one last glance.

 

Shorn golden hair now covered in dirt. One shining blue eye now replaced by an eyepatch. The blue he loved so much yet never found a proper chance to admit. There was blood in his mouth and a trail of it on his forehead, his cheeks. Blood everywhere.

 

He closed his eyes again, doing his best to stay focus.

 

_Mother, please…_

He ran the words that built the spell over and over in his head, didn’t dare to stop.

 

 ***

 

Loki might be right. All his life, Thor had had to suffer such terrible things, most of it caused by him, both directly and indirectly, and none of it Thor deserved. But he forgot to list out one thing that had and always would leave Thor in desperation.

 

 _His death_.

 

*** 

 

He didn’t know he had done it until he opened his eyes to the dead cold of Jotunheim. Icy mountain after mountain laid out before him and he could still hear the sound of battlefield rang in his back. The wind blew rabidly and his raven hair fluttered under its touch.

 

One brief glance and he already knew exactly where he was. An ancient temple covered by nothing but sharp and boring rocks. He started looking around, pausing only when he came face-to-face with a Jotun baby, wrapped in a thin blanket, lying on a dull rock.  It was blue, and quiet, and small. So small the thought of leaving it here alone, with two armies fighting the life out of each other not far away, made a person like him feel sick. _So vulnerable. Unsafe_.

 

He kneeled down beside it to get a closer look and somehow his appearance didn’t scare the baby out because it just lay there, peering him with its bright red eyes. So _that_ was how he supposed to look like. He felt somewhat wrong about it. It was supposed to look like a monster, not something with all this small and chubby and innocent.

 

Footsteps echoed in the background and he didn’t have to turn around to know who was approaching.

 

How many times he had thought about this, he couldn’t recollect. From the moment he had appeared on the ship and seen Thor standing in front of a mirror, looking somewhat lost, he had wanted nothing more than finding a way to make it up for Thor. And many sleepless nights he had spent with Thor after that, the idea had never seemed to vanish. And in those said moments, he would have wondered, if he had had the power, what would he change? What could have been altered to make Thor feel better, happier?

 

Many answers had flooded into his mind at those times and only now, when looking down at this tiny thing, he knew what exactly had to be changed.

 

He would change this, the root of all the tragedy that had happened to Thor’s life. He must fix this, he determined, no matter how painful it would turn out to be for this baby in the future.

 

So he pressed his palm against the blue baby’s forehead, mumbling a few words, shielding both of them from anyone’s sight. This was a trick Frigga taught him long ago and doing this meant he was giving up his chance to learn anything from her in the time to come, but as long as it saved Thor, then it would be fine, the baby would be fine, he would be fine.

 

Lucky for him that the baby kept quiet as if it perceived him and for that, he could not resist the smile forming on his lips.

 

_Hold it a little longer for us, will you?_

 

As soon as Odin exited the temple, he retrieved his hand. He looked at it just to see it became see-through. He was fading, he could tell. So he had done it, the spell had worked. He should be proud, but instead, he stood still and tried to hold back his threatening to fall tears. He failed miserbly, though. A great tremble already took over him as he turned his gaze back to the still lying quietly blue thing on the rock.

 

So that was it. From now on, there was no Loki in Thor’s life. From now on, Thor would have no idea that there was a person named Loki who was in another life would be his dearest brother. The thought made him panic and he acted before he even had time to think. He touched the baby again and this time, he touched it with a terror he didn’t know he could have.

 

_You will have my memories. In time._

He whispered. And by the time he finised, his body was completely transparent.

 

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry._

_One day you will understand. You will..._

_***_

Everyone believed Loki didn’t love Thor. Everyone believed all Loki felt towards Thor was just pure jealousy and hatred.

 

No one seemed to know that in another life, Loki would spontaneously let himself be punished just to see Thor lived a happy life. A life that would no longer have Loki in it.

 

 

*** 

 

The Jotun baby left to die in the temple that day grew up just fine. If _fine_ meant being neglected by his own father, being disregard by his own people. All that happened just because he was too different when compared to them.

 

He had small figure and lean muscles while others were frost giants with the sizes twice as big as his. They were all brutal and ugly while he was all beautiful, cunning, and polish. He was a runt, a prince who didn’t even fit in his own realm.

 

But his sorrow and isolation were soon be compensated by books. He loved books.

 

And he had some weird dreams, too. The dreams he knew were his yet at the same time were not his at all.

 

He often dreamt of a boy. No, two boys. One had a raven hair just like he did and the other’s hair painted the color of gold. They were brothers. They were closed. And as soon as the first dream started, it mesmerized him. Who wouldn’t? No one, not to his knowledge, could refrain from a dream in which one of the main characters shared their own name.

 

Sometimes, he woke up and found out that he couldn’t stop smiling to himself because in his dream, the boy whose eyes were deep green had tricked his brother by turning into a beautiful snake and then as his brother picking the snake up to admire it, the boy had transformed back and stabbed him.

 

 _I would do the same if I ever had a brother_ , he thought.

 

And sometimes, he woke up with tears already rolling down his cheeks because he had just dreamt of a man falling into the darkness while his brother had been all but crying out his name and trying to catch his hand.

 

 _Don’t let him go, you stupid,_ he thought.

 

Those dreams didn’t bother him much. In fact, he was quite looking forward to it. It was like reading a book and as a book lover, it was killing him not to know how it ended.

 

He believed it was just some weird dreams. He did. Until he heard the name of the crown prince of Asgard.

 

_Thor._

 

 

 

 


End file.
